Teenage Dream
by ShinkonoKokoro
Summary: In which Loki plays a trick and Tony's a teenager again faced with his biggest childhood crush. Only this time, maybe he can get what he wants.
1. Chapter 1

This was written for this prompt:

_A battle with Loki leaves Tony de-aged physically and mentally to the time he was in college._

_young!Tony takes it all in stride. He is duly impressed by his armor, confused and excited by all the superhumans (Thor and Hulk) around and then is smacked by the realization that the boring blond hovering around is actually his MAJOR childhood hero / crush / source of adolescent fantasies Captain America! Cue teen!Tony trying his best (and maybe succeeding?) to get into an increasingly flustered and blushy Captain America._

_Bonus if teen!Tony is still way way more experienced than virgin!Steve and is *delighted* to get to top (and deflower) Captain America._

_(Um, extra bonus for including a little bit of Rhodey and Pepper interacting with Tony. Also super bonus for Steve unearthing Tony's daddy issues by the dozen.)_

And it somehow turned into a 30-page monster... ^^; Anyway. Enjoy!

Should also warn for underage sexual relations.

* * *

><p>Tony was down. Steve swore and sprinted to his side, one last look to Loki who smirked smugly and then vanished.<p>

"Tony? Tony, can you hear me?" Steve jostled his shoulder gently enough to not hurt him, but enough that he'd notice through the armour.

No movement. No sound.

"Tony? Move something if you can hear me!" Dread wormed its way up his spine as the tread of the feet of other Avengers approached.

"How fares our friend?" Thor asked.

"I don't know." Steve had to hold himself back from snapping at Thor. _It's your brother that did whatever it is he did! Why don't _you _ask him!_ "He's not responding. Someone get a vehicle we can load him into—_not_ you, Thor. I don't want a repeat of the last time you drove. Clint. Tasha. One of you guys. Thor, you handle the Hulk."

"Of course," Thor said quietly.

Waiting until they were out of sight and hearing range, Steve swore lowly and then muttered, "Armour recognise Steve Rogers. Override code Uniform-Sierra-Juliet-4-1776. Open helmet."

The helmet of the armour flipped up, letting him see Tony's face.

Steve frowned. That was...Tony. But...not Tony. Looking around, he flipped it mostly closed again and then lifted Tony as the flatbed backed into the clearest area of carnage and then stopped. Natasha leaned out the window and gave him a thumbs-up. He pushed him into the back and then climbed up himself to hold the armour still as he barked the order to head back to the mansion. Tony was breathing, but not conscious. And...not himself. No sign of Loki anymore and Thor was handling the Hulk back towards the mansion. Fury would be...furious. Right now? Not his problem.

Steve was the one who got Tony down to the lab and had Natasha clear one of the tables in order to lay him out on it in favour of the cot which would probably just collapse. And Tony would be too lazy to replace it and end up sleeping on the floor. And then he would complain about his back and... Steve shook his head. "Thanks, Natasha. Would you do the report for Fury, please?"

She nodded. "He okay?"

"He's breathing."

"That doesn't tell me if he's okay." She gave him a hard look.

"I'll let you know when I know."

"Sir, this isn't a need-to-know basis. This is a team-mate. And as irritating as Stark is, I would like to know that he's okay."

"Nothing's bleeding. I think he just got knocked out. I need to get the armour off him." He felt a little hot under the collar at the not-quite-lie.

She smirked. "Of course you do."

"Stop it." Now he was definitely blushing. "He entrusted _me_ with the code. And I can't very well betray that, can I?"

Natasha would have rolled her eyes were she anyone else. "Of course, sir. Please do fill us in when you have more information."

"Of course. Tell Barton not to worry too hard." He smiled.

"Yes, sir."

Steve waited until the door was shut and sealed behind her before speaking the code for the armour to disassemble. And then set it aside, _not_ thinking about how young Tony looked. He was fine. He was certainly fine; and Steve did _not_ think about the modern innuendo of that terminology. He just looked so _young_! What was Loki's game?

Fetching the plush throw from the cot, Steve laid it over Tony and then perched on a stool to wait. And watch. And, apparently, think. He just looked so young! Was he the right Tony? They'd had experiences with other universes before. Should he talk to Richards? He seemed to be the expert on that... But Tony looked so relaxed. Mouth hanging open a little as his head lolled to the side. No shadows. No stress wrinkles. Not that Tony would ever admit to that being what they were... It was Tony though. There was no one else it could be. Despite the youth of this face—and body—it was Tony.

"Hey Tony..." He said quietly, laying a hand over the one that curled loosely over the edge of the counter.

The kid groaned, eyelids fluttering.

Steve pulled his hand back. "Tony?"

"Wha'you want..." he slurred and rolled off the counter, somehow managing success despite his eyes being mostly closed and wobbling dangerously. "Shit... Some hangover..."

"Uh... Need Advil?"

"Fuck, where—fuck." Tony blinked around the workshop and then weaved towards the door and was headed up the stairs before Steve could stop him.

Following quickly, he watched as Tony got himself up the stairs and to Steve's room before flopping onto the bed and passing out again.

"Why's he in your room?" Clint asked at Steve's shoulder making him jump.

"_Clint_!"

Clint grinned maddeningly at him.

"I have no idea. I think he's disoriented. Thinks it's his room?" Steve looked back at Tony on his bed and then quickly back at Clint. "I say we let him sleep while he'll sleep."

Looking doubtful, Barton shrugged. "You're the boss."

"I'm going to go read." Steve parked himself in the main room. "JARVIS, let me know when Tony leaves my room."

"Of course, Master Rogers," the AI responded.

* * *

><p>Steve ended up reading the same chapter about three times before he gave up, disgusted by himself and flopped over on the couch, much in the same way Tony would when he'd hit a wall or was watching TV. So he flipped it on and watched some stupid cooking show that didn't teach him anything useful for another hour and a half until JARVIS alerted him that Tony was on the move. He rolled to his feet, Natasha, Clint, and Thor materialising from their hideaways as he did so.<p>

Tony, the throw still draped around his shoulders, looked at them, back at the room he'd just exited, and then back at them. "Right. I throw a party last night?" Frowned. "And that's not my room. What happened to my room?"

"To—" Steve began.

"And why are you all old? Since when do I party with old people. Unless you're Dad's friends. In which case that was rude of me, sorry about that, blah blah blah."

Steve blinked, glanced at the others. Thor looked guilty. Easy; this was his brother's fault. Clint looked offended. And Natasha folded her arms, face unreadable. As usual.

"Where are you, Tony?"

"Uh, I'm at _home_." He looked at Natasha like she was stupid. "Where are _you_."

"What are you doing home?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Summer break. Duh."

"And your dad?"

"I assume he's...working. Or whatever it is he does. Why are you asking me these questions. You with the government? Chance is about fifty-fifty. Dad works with the government. So..." He yawned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now either tell me who you are or I'm calling security. Jarvis can escort you out."

Steve's heart was pounding a little too hard. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Almost." Tony yawned again. "Now who are you?"

"Shit," Clint said.

"I'm Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow. This is Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye. Behind him is—"

"Woah, woah. What is this 'aka' business?" He squinted at them.

Natasha smiled. "We're a part of a team of superheroes called the Avengers. A team of which you are a part. Tony, what year is it?"

"1989."

"Wrong. It's 2012."

"You're shitting me."

Steve stepped back, rather glad that Natasha was taking point on this. His mind was still reeling. Tony thought he was still in college. No. Tony _was_ still in college. Natasha was explaining Tony's role as Iron Man. Tony was 16. Tony was a kid. Steve's eyes roved over him again, the explanation now making sense with the visual. Tony was shorter. Less muscle bulked up. He wasn't used to the suit. The building. The physical labour. He wore his youth like a mantle of immortality. Nothing could happen to him. He was a young wealthy kid genius on top of the world. Tony must have been a terror in college. MIT, if he remembered correctly. He was jarred out of his thoughts by Tony's demand of seeing his armour.

Tossing the blanket on the couch as they walked by, Tony followed Natasha down to the workshop. "So this doesn't belong to my dad."

"The entire house is yours, Tony," she replied.

"You have graciously invited us to stay here," Thor added in.

"And who are you, big guy?" Tony asked, trying not to make it obvious that he had to crane his neck to look up at him.

"I am Thor!" he boomed with a grin. "A pleasure to re-meet you, my friend!"

"Thor," Tony echoed dubiously.

"Yes. You do not remember me?" Thor asked, his face falling.

"You said it yourself, big guy. You're re-meeting me." Tony looked amused and then strolled into the workshop after Natasha spoke the code to unlock the door. Face slightly flushed, he scowled around, eyes lighting on the red and gold. Then his face appeared flushed for an entirely different reason. "_Oh_. Oh, _hello_, beautiful." He had crouched down by the pieces, picking up one, inspecting, setting it down. Picking up another, turning it over, setting it down. He muttered through his exploration until Banner came down frowning.

"What have I missed?"

"Tony's been de-aged to sixteen, doesn't know any of us, and is falling in love with his armour," Natasha said, not turning to face him.

"Who's he?" Tony asked without turning around. "Quetzalcoatl?"

"I'm Doctor Bruce Banner."

"Heard of you. Gamma particles, was it?" Tony stood. Looked at them all. "So this the team? Black Widow, Hawkeye, a scientist, a god, and the boyscout?"

Natasha smirked.

"Actually," Bruce said, "a gamma _bomb_, and it worked. Kind of. Because I tested it on myself."

"Oh?" Tony's brows went up, leaning forward, hands back in his pockets. It was nice to see that some things didn't change. "So..."

"So when I get angry I turn giant, green, and destructive," Banner mumbled.

Tony only laughed. "Awesome, man! So you turn giant, green, and destructive. Thor... God of thunder?"

"Verily!" Thor beamed. "I also wield Mjolnir and fly!"

"Excellent," Tony drawled. "Black Widow? Some sort of spider power?"

"No. I'm just very good at hand-to-hand combat."

"And Hawkeye?" Tony looked over at him.

"Expert marksman."

"And boyscout is..." Tony trailed off, finally really looking at Steve. He squinted in Steve's direction making him straighten his spine a little and fold his arms across his chest. "No..."

"This is—"

"Shut up," Tony cut Natasha off, throwing a hand up in her direction while he inched closer to Steve. "No way... No way! You can't—it's not... But I recognise..." Tony got closer, circled around, rolled up onto his toes. "No. Fucking. Way. You can't be. My dad... He didn't... Huh." He rocked back onto his heels, face slack in astonishment.

Steve looked over at Natasha and the rest of the team, all of whom had various expressions of amusement on their faces.

"Captain America..." Tony breathed in awe. "You're him. Holy fucking shit, you're him. Captain fucking America is in my house. Holy shit on a stick."

* * *

><p>Tony stared up at the man. Good. Freaking. Holy. Shit. This was really him. "Captain America. Steve Rogers. World War II hero, son of Sarah and Joseph, only success in the Operation: Rebirth project lead by Erskine and dear old dad, fought the Red Skull wielding a vibranium shield," he recited, faintly aware of his mouth running on, but really not caring. Captain America was standing in front of him. Captain fucking America.<p>

"Uh... How do you know all that?" the Captain asked.

"Dad's files aren't really secure..." Tony reached out a hand but didn't touch. "To me."

"I don't think you were supposed to know that..."

"You're incredible..." He snapped his mouth shut and then flicked his eyes up to the Captain's face, biting the inside of his cheek as his face flamed up. Oh God. This was better than dad's old reels. He dipped his chin a little and looked up at him through his lashes. Just as an experiment. The Captain cleared his throat and looked away.

"Um. Tony..."

He suppressed a shudder. The Captain said his name. "We go on missions together?"

"We all do," Natasha said.

Oh yeah. He forgot about the rest of them. "So how does my armour work?" he asked, aiming for casual while he sorted all of this information through in his head—he was on a team with Captain America. Captain. America.

"You're the only one who really knows that, Tony," the Captain said, once again drawing Tony's attention. Man was he delicious in that t-shirt. God, his pecs...

"Huh?"

"You said yourself..." The Captain blushed again. "You're a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, genius?"

Hawkeye snorted and Tony sent him a cutting look. "Right. So I'm smart. Knew that. That's why I'm at MIT at my age." He smirked.

"Yes, Tony. We all know you're smart," Natasha said. "Now that you're awake and mostly aware of the situation, I suggest that we clue Fury in before he has a coronary. Steve?"

"Right," Captain America said, snapping into business mode. "Tony. We'll need to let Fury know what's going on. We might need to bench you for—"

"Hell no! I'm on a team with Captain America! I'm _going_ on missions."

Captain America looked at the ceiling. "I..."

"I can figure the armour out. I was smart enough to build it, I'll be smart enough to figure it out! You're _not_ grounding me."

"You haven't changed," Captain America said with a smile. "I know you'll figure it out. But we..."

"We can't rely on you because we don't know who you are," Hawkeye said.

Tony frowned. "But you said you worked with me."

"We worked with your older self," Banner said.

"But Captain America—"

"Steve."

"What?" Tony looked at the man.

"My name is Steve," he said, cheeks still a little pink. "Call me Steve."

Tony grinned, fisting his hands in his pockets. "Sure thing, _Steve_."

"Oh God..." he heard Hawkeye mutter.

"Anyway, _Steve_ said I haven't changed."

"Personality-wise," Hawkeye said.

"Your physical shape has changed, Tony Stark," Thor rumbled. "We have worked well with you, and you are an excellent ally, but we do not know you as a person at this age. You have gained wisdom over the years that you do not possess now."

He frowned. "So you're telling me I'm too young." Nobody said anything. "Captain America—_Steve—_is..." He did the quick math. "..over 90. You want him to retire 'cause he's too old?"

Captai—Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony. That's not what we mean. There's a team dynamic. While you fit really well before, we're not sure where you fit now."

"So you're telling me I'm not good enough." He demanded sharply, something twisting in his chest. "Fine. Get out. This is my workshop. So get out!" Captain America sent him an almost pleading glance. "_Out_!"

Natasha sighed and herded the others out, Thor sending a forlorn look over his shoulder at Tony. What the hell was his problem. Banner shook his head and rolled his eyes heaven-ward and Clint curled a lip.

"Go on," he sneered at Captain America. "Never good enough, huh? Can't measure up? Get outta here."

"Tony..."

"I don't wanna hear it." He turned his back and walked back to the armour, squatting in front of it. Listening for the click of the door, he turned and watched Steve's back disappear up the stairs through the glass and then kicked the helmet. "_Fuck_. Fuck you all." And set to work figuring out his—frankly brilliant—armour.

* * *

><p>He'd gotten it on, walked and jetted around the workshop a little, dusted by Dummy! and figured out most of the systems when there was a knock on the glass panels by the door. Taking his helmet off, Tony strode over and folded his arms, glaring at Captain America (was he allowed to do that?) who looked a little sheepish and seemed to be holding a sandwich.<p>

"Tony..."

"What d'you want."

"You haven't eaten in a while."

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat!"

"You made me a sandwich?" He squinted at it.

"Yes. Your favourite. Turkey!"

"How do you know that?"

The Captain—Steve—smiled. "Some things stay the same. Can I come in?"

"...I guess." He turned away and began taking off the armour.

"Need help with that?"

"No! I'm not a genius for nothing, you know!"

Captain America looked hurt. "I know... I just... Sorry." He set the sandwich down on one of the tables and settled himself on a stool. "I was just—"

"You're a lot different from those reels," Tony said, watching Steve's reaction in one of the screens.

Captain America blinked and straightened before a little smile crossed his lips. "Those _were_ mostly for propaganda and advertisement. Of course I'm not always like that. I'm a soldier. I actually fought in the war."

"Did you kill people?" Tony asked, feeling mean.

"Yes," Steve said quietly.

The armour off, Tony hopped up on the table next to the plate with the sandwich and took a bit. "Huh. Really is my favourite. Almost as good as Jarvis' sandwiches. Where is Jarvis."

"Here, sir. Was there something you needed?"

Tony jumped, upsetting the plate, spinning around. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wha—what the hell!" He glared at Steve snickering and looked around the workshop. "Where are you?"

"I am here, sir. What did you need?"

"What the hell!"

"Tony, JARVIS is your AI."

"Indeed, sir. As you named me, Just A Rather Very Intelligent System."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "I turned my butler into an AI."

"You apparently found it amusing," JARVIS quipped.

"I'm sure I did..." he replied, voice laced with amusement. "Wow... I really am a genius, huh?"

"And _so_ humble, sir."

"JARVIS, do you shut up?"

"Precisely when you tell me to, sir."

Tony snorted. "Shut up, JARVIS."

"Indeed, sir."

Tony turned on Steve, glaring. "Do you shut up when told?"

"Not by you," Captain America sniggered.

"Right," Tony snapped. "I forgot. I'm just a kid."

"Tony, I doubt you were ever _just_ a kid," Captain America said quietly, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

Picking up the sandwich again, Tony took another bite. "Alright. It's good. What d'you want?"

"Huh?"

"You're bribing me."

Captain America laughed. "I'm spending time with you."

"Why?"

"Oh Tony..."

"Stop it," he snapped. "I don't need that." He turned away so he wouldn't have to see the pity run rampant on the man's face. Seriously, he couldn't hide shit. How was it _this_ guy was Captain America. "I'm busy. I don't need lectures."

"Who said I'm here to lecture you?"

Fiddling with the tools, Tony rolled his eyes. "How are you real?"

"You've asked me that before," Captain America said softly.

"Great," Tony drawled. "Now I'm predictable."

"Tony, stop taking everything so seriously! I just want—" The Captain sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"What. What do you want."

"I just want to be friends!"

"Frien—Friends." Tony spun on his heel and leaned up against the desk, staring down Captain America. "You want to be friends with me?"

"I thought we were friends."

"Yeah, but I don't know you." Captain America...was pouting. "But..." He looked so hopeful. "But. I could get to know you. Thanks for the sandwich." Maybe... maybe he could give the guy a chance.

* * *

><p>Tony Stark could afford a chance. Tony Stark could afford a lot of things. But considering this was Captain America, aka Steve Rogers, <em>in the fucking flesh<em>, Tony Stark could definitely give this a chance. He was a fucking genius. And richer than his dad, for sure. Hell, he had a house that _talked_ to him.

"Hey JARVIS."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you still do breakfast?"

"Not as such, sir. You would be required to build me the physical capability to do so."

He snickered. "Shut up, JARVIS."

"You are much more polite in your later iteration, sir."

He hummed, staring up at his ceiling—_his_ ceiling, the house was his now. Not his dad's. Though his dad was dead. That was a weird thought. And his mother. And that was enough to set him off sleep for the evening. Worrying his lip, he shifted on the bed. Big. Just what he would have chosen. Soft. Just what he would have chosen. High thread-count sheets. Just what—okay. Who was he kidding. This was all exactly what he would have chosen. Nice to see his future self has good taste. Or...the same taste. He grinned. His house totally rocked.

And he worked with great people. Correction: _gorgeous_ people. That Natasha chick was hot. And the god...? Well. He was a god. Maybe Tony could visit where he comes from. If they were all as fine as Thor, then hey... There's some good times to be had! Banner was a little... Well. Nerdy. But he could get behind that. And Clint... Well Clint seemed like a saucy little bitch.

Then there was the main course: Captain America. He grinned and shifted on the bed. Oh hell. Yeah. He pulled one of his hands from behind his head and shifted it to his chest. A tease. Shifted it lower. He shouldn't. Bit his lip. Fuck, he shouldn't... Forget that. He was totally gonna.

And he didn't really feel guilty afterwards.

This could happen. Tony stretched on his bed, grinning. This could totally happen. The guy seemed to like him, God knows why. But Tony could work with this. This could work. Now he needed a plan. He snickered. A man with a plan. He just wasn't so star-spangled...

* * *

><p>Steve glanced at his watch. Again. Tony still wasn't up. And it was approaching one o'clock. So Steve knocked lightly on Tony's door before entering. He couldn't help the little smile that settled on his lips as he took in the teenager sprawled on Tony's bed. Thinner. He was definitely thinner, now that he saw him without a shirt. "Hey, Tony. C'mon. Get up! You've slept enough! And there's something I never thought I'd say." When Tony still didn't move, he walked over to the bed and sat, jostling the kid's shoulder gently. This was definitely weird. Look at that. A bit of five o'clock shadow. "Tony." His eyes wandered Tony's chest, bare of the arc reactor. Bare of a lot, actually. Standard muscle from everyday use. Little chest hair to speak of. While off-putting, it was kind of exciting to see what Tony was like when he was younger. He rarely talked about it. It was like a separate part of his life completely. "Tony. Come on. It's time to get up."<p>

"Uh-huh..." Tony mumbled and rolled over, the sheets slipping down to his waist.

Steve cleared his throat. This was awkward. "I'll make you breakfast if you get up. Though it's more like lunch. Come on. We've got business."

"Screw business..."

"Do I have to dump the mattress?"

Tony cracked an eye, gaze assessing. "Let me tell you... Captain America in my bed? Dream come true number one."

Steve stared, his face heating, standing quickly. "Get up!" Well shoot. There was that smirk. Oh boy.

"Don't leave..." Tony stretched out a hand.

"I... I'm not."

"What're you makin'?" Tony stretched his arms above his head, arching off the bed—that couldn't have been planned—before flopping over and sliding out of the bed.

Oh. Naked. Steve's eyes flew towards the ceiling.

"Oh come on. Tell me you've seen guys naked before. Not a big deal," Tony said with a wave of his hand.

"I uh..." He leaned away as Tony brushed by.

"Well shit. I dunno if any of these clothes are gonna fit me..." Tony said. And then crossed the room nude again.

"I've got a robe you can borrow for now!"

"Great," Tony said with a grin. Boyish charm. Crap.

Steve fled.

"Hey Cap, how's the kid?" Clint asked, pausing in his doorway with the paper.

"He's..."

"Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine." Steve could do this. Calm. "I think we need some clothes for him to use."

"Doesn't he have a tailor on speed dial or something? I'm sure he ruins more suits in the armour than we ever hear about."

"Oh. You're right... Thanks, Clint."

"In the meanwhile, he can use a pair of my jeans if he wants. Or better yet, ask Banner. He's smaller than me."

"When he's not green," Natasha said, passing them into her room. "We should probably alert Miss Potts. This is something that concerns her, after all."

Steve echoed Clint's groan. "Great."

"Can you tell me when you tell her? I'm either going to have a camera or be very far away. On second thought, I will try for both."

"Lend me a set of clothes," Steve said dully. "Then go practise. Your short-range could use some work."

"Whose short range could use some work!" Clint protested, affronted.

"Go."

Grumbling, the man disappeared.

Steve turned to Natasha. "Fury want to see him?"

"Of course Fury wants to see him. And we should tell Pepper."

"I'm not disagreeing with you." He sighed. "I just... what do we _do_ with him?"

Natasha shrugged. "He's still Tony Stark."

"Yeah..." He was still Tony Stark. Just without all of the polish. The uncut diamond. Steve found the robe and returned to Tony's room, knocking hesitantly.

"C'mon in!"

"Are you..." Of course he was still naked. Steve stuck his arm through the door, robe in hand. "Here."

"How were you a soldier if you're afraid of nudity," Tony laughed. "Get in here."

Steve pushed the door open, faintly wondering if it was worse to see Tony wrapped up in the terry-cloth robe that had, ironically, been a kind of...welcome-to-my-house gift _from_ Tony. "Good morning."

"Morning yourself, sunshine. So you here to fill me in on what's on today's docket? What's goin' on? What's happenin'?" He grinned, belting the robe before heading into the kitchen. "Damn! Do I have good taste! Is this what we do on off days? Morning, big guy!" He bumped a fist against Thor's shoulder on his way by and headed to the coffee machine. "Aw, and it's already brewed! This is sweet!"

"Tony..."

"I like this!"

"Tony you have to meet with Fury," Steve said, grabbing his bicep. Arm. Smaller. Thinner. Younger. He shook his head.

"Who's this Fury guy? Is that a nickname? Seriously?" He sniffed the fresh mug of coffee like it was something sinful.

"That's your—well. _Our_ boss. You do consulting work for him. As well as be a part of the Avengers. You've got a couple projects going for him, I think? You never really told me. And... there's the issue of Stark Industries."

Tony frowned at him. "Woah, what?"

"Stark Industries? Your company."

"_My_ company." Tony stared at him over the rim of the mug.

Steve's heart swelled. So familiar. "Yeah. Uh..."

"Don't scare the poor boy," Natasha said, breezing through to the coffee maker.

"I'm not _scared_. I just... Wow. Wasn't aware that I owned a company."

"Surprise," she drawled.

"Okay. _Now_ it's a lot to process." Tony leaned against the fridge. "I own a company. Pay for a superhero team of which I am also a member. I own my dad's house. I have...how many cars?"

"Eleven," Steve said absently.

"Eleven," Tony echoed, the corner of his mouth quirking in a way that always said amused. "Any other surprises? Hey! Do I have a girlfriend?"

"Not currently. The last..." Natasha paused. "Didn't work out."

"Right. Cool."

"Really?" Steve asked. "I thought you'd be more upset."

Tony shrugged. "Whatever. Not exactly like she'll like me when I'm prepubescent."

"You're not prepubescent."

Tony smirked at Steve. "No, but I bet I'd be young enough to be her son..."

"Not likely," Natasha said. "Now. Pepper's on her way over with some clothes."

"Will they fit? Who's Pepper."

"They'll fit perfectly," Natasha said, giving Tony a once over. Tony leered back. "I'm excusing that because you're young and you don't know me. If it happens again, I will throw you out the nearest window."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The same goes for calling me 'ma'am.' Be polite to Pepper. She's your greatest ally."

"I thought that was Steve," Tony said innocently, grabbing on to Steve's arm. "Wow you're ripped."

"Ripped?" Steve echoed.

"Yeah. Built. Really muscular."

"Oh." And hoped he wasn't flushing. "Uh. Thanks."

Tony laughed. "No problem, Cap."

Steve sighed.

"Problem?"

"Missed you calling me that."

"Alright, boys. Enough," 'Tasha said. She lifted her phone. "Pepper's here."

"Anything else I need to know," Tony asked, hands slipped into his pockets artfully. Seriously, how old was Tony when he learned how to do that? Block himself off from being read.

"Tony!" Pepper called as soon as she was in the door. "I hear there's a problem! Why don't you tell me there's a problem! I need you to—oh God!" Pepper dropped her briefcase, hands flying to her face to cover her mouth. "Oh my God, _Tony_!"

"Uh... yeah. That's me."

"Tony..."

"Let's cut this short: I don't know you."

Pepper gaped and Steve leaned forward to intercede quickly. "He doesn't mean it! He's been...uh...de-aged. So he thinks he's in college."

"I'm sorry—_think_? I _am_ in college, as far as I know!" Tony jerked his head and glared at Steve. "Don't tell me what I mean and what I don't mean! I'm old enough to know that much. No matter what my father says." He pushed at Steve's arm and then smiled charmingly at Pepper. "What he _means_ to say is that I think it's still 1986. I don't know anything my future self knows. The self you know."

Natasha stepped back, an amused smile playing over her lips as Pepper shuffled forward and touched Tony's shoulder. "Oh God. I've seen pictures... _Tony_! You were an adorable child!"

Steve winced as Tony's expression promptly soured. He'd already appeared to have a knack for botching things with the kid—should probably nip _that_ habit in the bud.

"I'm not a kid."

"No, you were never a child, Tony."

"Interesting," he drawled, sending a look to Steve. "You're not the first person to tell me that. Did I grow up jaded?"

"You're already jaded." Pepper swatted him on the shoulder. "Come here!" And then pulled him into a hug. "You're gorgeous. Here. There's clothes in the bag so you don't have to wear that ratty thing."

"Hey!" Steve protested. "Tony _gave _me that 'ratty thing.'"

Tony blinked at him. "I did?"

"Uh... Y-yeah. You did..."

Pepper shook her head, tsked, and then bent to pick up her suitcase. "Come on. Let's get you changed, and then we'll get down to business."

Steve read the 'you stay here' in between the lines and shook his head.

"You're fine," Natasha said.

"No! I'm screwing everything up!" Steve plopped himself in a chair at the kitchen table and dropped his head into his hands.

Natasha actually laughed. "You're hardly screwing anything up, Steve. Relax."

"No! Tony hates me!"

"You do know you're acting like a thirteen year old girl."

He lifted his head to glare at Natasha. "This passes your lips to anyone else, and I will have you train Clint for a month."

She threw up her hands with a smirk. "Of course."

"And a half."

"So you're serious. I get it. I—" Natasha broke off, folding her arms. If Steve knew better, she would have whistled.

He turned and found himself staring also. "Wow..."

"How do I look?" Tony said, spreading his arms and doing a turn.

The suit was a deep blue, thin red stripes. Over a pale pink shirt that accented Tony's colouring perfectly, of course. All tied together by thin black tie. "Great... You look great..." he said softly. Well, open mouth insert foot.

"Hey thanks, Cap." Tony smiled at him brightly. "That's what I think."

"Your ego hasn't shrunk with your age, it's _grown_." Pepper shook her head. "Now what do we tell the board..."

"Hey, I can play grown-up. Who usually steps in for me when I get sick and am off on business? Isn't that Obi's job?" When nobody said anything, Tony groaned. "What, he died too?"

"Yeah," Pepper said quickly. "Sorry, Tony."

"Fine. It's fine," he said with a toss of his head. "Alright then."

* * *

><p>"At least I age well," Tony mumbled after dinner, after Pepper was gone. Pushing back the laptop he'd gotten used to scarily quickly, Tony flopped back on the couch, sprawling with the ease only a teenager could accomplish. "Gonna come in, Cap, or hover in the doorway."<p>

Steve shook his head and settled on the foot of space that Tony _didn't_ take up on the couch and hunched over his tea. "You can call me 'Steve,' you know."

"Really?" Cracking an eyelid, Tony smirked at him.

"Yeah. How'd everything go with Pepper?"

"Oh she's great. She's... she's hot stuff," Tony said, flopping his arm over his face.

"Yeah, I thought you always liked her."

"You think I'll remember all this stuff when I'm back to my original age? God, will I stay like this?"

"I hope not," Steve said, earning himself _another_ glare from Tony.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just mean... Well, you're my friend, Tony. And I miss you. You're still _you_, but..." He hoped he could salvage this. "But I like older you."

"How old are _you_?"

"Twenty-eight. Why?"

Tony looked up at the ceiling, considering. "Just curious. Don't worry. I won't take offense that you don't want me."

"I do want you!" he corrected quickly.

"Do ya now?"

"_Tony_. Not... Forget it," Steve mumbled, face hot.

"You know..." Tony sat, leaning on his elbows. "You are the most frustrating person I know."

Steve started. "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, you should be." Tony shook his head and got to his feet and strolled around the back of the couch. "Man, why is there no booze in this house."

"Tony, you're too young to drink."

"Never stopped me before."

"It's a bad idea..." Steve shifted. How to explain to your teenage friend that he has problems with liquor.

"Don't tell me what to do, Steve," Tony warned.

"Hey! Hey Tony! I just heard, man!"

Steve was on his feet at the sound of the slamming door and James Rhodes voice echoing through the main hall.

"Where are you?" Rhodes stopped in the doorway and stared. "Wow, man. I... don't even know what to say."

Tony squinted then his eyes flew wide. "Oh my God! Rhodey! Lookit you! You're... You look—"

"You say 'old,' I break you," Rhodes warned, stepping forward.

And just like that, Tony looked young. Watching him rush forward into the hug, Steve smiled and shook his head.

"Hey guys," Rhodes said when he pulled away from Tony. "Aw man! Look at you! Man, I forgot you were ever so—"

"Charming? Young? Gorgeous?"

"Short. Cocky."

"Aw, Rhodey! You always say the nicest things." Tony grinned, rocking onto his toes. "Take me out like you used to?"

"You used to take Tony out?" Steve was a little embarrassed at how high his voice jumped. "He's under age!"

"Wow, really?" Tony rolled his eyes at him. "Fine, Mom."

Rhodes snorted. Steve looked heavenward.

"You guys are no fun.." Tony groused and threw himself on the couch again. "Rhodey, you used to be cool!"

"Tony, I _am_ cool. You're just too young to know it."

Tony snorted.

Steve left the room, heading up to his own, Tony's smile still fresh in his mind. And if he pulled out a little charcoal before bed...? Well. The paper might always get lost in the bottom of a drawer.

* * *

><p>Tony rolled out of bed around ten thirty, prowling around his house. His house. He eventually made his way down to the workshop and tinkered. There were lots of neat things on his hard drive, and his interface system was fricken sweet. Running through the specs of Captain America's uniform, he smirked. Maybe that crush hadn't gone away. The thing fit him like a glove and looked damn fine. Tony, you dog, you. He messed around with the armour some more until around two when his stomach alerted him to the necessity of food. Taking the stairs two at a time, he paused in the doorway to what was apparently a gym. New addition. Capta—Steve was working out. Dancing around the punching bag. Tony skirted through the doorway, leaning against the mirrors to watch. Cap had his shirt off and was sweating. It was a good ten minutes before Steve noticed him.<p>

"Tony! You're up."

"Been up." He sauntered towards the other, letting himself smile as he took in the sights.

"Oh?" Cap began unwrapping his hands.

"Yeah. I was down in the workshop. Wow. You must have really worked out in order to get yourself so...sweaty." Steve really blushed a lot. And it was_ so_ easy to set him off. Tony grinned.

"Uh... I've been here a while."

Tony nodded. "I was hungry. Wanna get some lunch?"

"You paying?" Steve smiled.

"I'll buy you whatever you want, gorgeous."

"Tony..." he reprimanded. But his cheeks were flushed and he angled away a little.

"Get yourself showered and dressed. I'll take ya out." Tony leaned forward and looked up through his lashes, smiling the smile that always got him an extra week on assignments when he was too bored to get them done on time.

"Um. Sure... That's uh great. I'll go get ready." Steve wound his wraps and then fled the gym.

Chuckling to himself, Tony went back to his room and put on one of the soft polos and slacks Pepper had brought him. Easiest lunch date ever... He waited in the lobby, poking at the security system. Damn, was he good.

"Tony? What are you doing?"

Tony blinked, looking at what he'd done. "Uh..."

Steve just laughed. "Geeze, look at you. I thought we were going for lunch?"

"Aren't we?" He looked at the mess of wires and screws that he hurried to put back together. "Sorry, JARVIS!"

"Quite alright, sir. I have faith that you would put me back together whole again."

Steve grinned. "Get that done and then let's go."

"You driving?"

Steve blinked at him. "You...have cars. Want me to drive?" And then grinned a little too hopefully.

"I never let you drive, do I?"

"Oh I drive all the time!"

"Liar! You just want to drive my Maserati!"

"Uh, the Mustang, actually."

"Well. The Mustang. I think I can let you drive the Mustang..." Tony drawled. "What do I get in return?"

"Not getting arrested?"

Tony snorted, putting the last screw in place. "You're funny. Captain America is funny."

"Steve."

"What?"

The man looked a little hurt. "I told you to call me Steve."

"Oh right." Tony grinned, rocking forward on his toes. "_Steve_."

"Tony," he warned, flushing slightly.

"Yes, _Steve_?" He slipped his hands into his pockets and brushed past the good captain to head towards the garage.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?" Tony turned, widening his eyes to give his best innocent.

Steve sucked in air.

Tilted his head down, looking up through his lashes. Tony hoped those photos of him standing next to Captain America on the internet weren't lying. He wanted to be taller.

Steve muttered something that sounded a lot like 'oh mercy, give me strength.' "Never mind. Let's go." And then it was his turn to brush past Tony towards the garage. Tony didn't miss the reddened flush on the back of his neck though.

As he buckled up and Steve started the car, Tony turned to look at him, giving him directions when needed. If he didn't think about it, Steve was just another really attractive guy. When he did think about it, it was really hard to believe (and breathe), because Captain America was driving his (future self's) car. And they were essentially, if Tony read him right—which he was pretty sure he was because he was good at that, going on a lunch date. Steve liked him at least a little bit. Or. Well. He liked his older self. He was rich, made his dad's company better, had a rockin' goatee (it wasn't working for him at this age...), could get all the ladies he wanted (that wasn't any different), had a brilliant PA who was doing everything she could, he and Rhodey were still friends, and he was on a superhero team with Captain Fucking America. If that wasn't a dream-life come true... Well. "Hey. Hey, Steve."

"Yeah, Tony?"

"You still haven't told me what I get in return."

"Huh?"

"For me allowing you to drive the Mustang."

"What?" Steve's hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Easy, Cap; don't do my car lasting damage! Left here."

"Tony, where are we going?"

"You'll see. After three streets, take a right and then park in the first parking lot on your left."

Steve frowned. "Isn't that where that Italian place is?"

"I've taken you there!" Tony blinked.

"Uh. Yeah?"

"Huh. I must really like you." He grinned when Steve flicked a look at him. "I only share that place with people I like."

Steve spent the rest of the drive carefully looking at the road, only looking at him when he'd turned the car off.

"Keys."

Sighing, Steve dropped them in Tony's open hand. "I assume you called ahead?"

"While you were prettying yourself up!" Tony got out of the car and headed to the back door. Steve's footsteps followed him.

"Ah, scusi, sir! You cannot—"

Tony ignored the guy following after him and continued through the kitchen like he owned it. "Jonas!"

A man stepped out from behind the pans and frowned at him. "Uh... Tony?"

"You know me?"

"And Steve!" The man's face brightened. "How are you both. What happened?"

"You know Steve." Tony frowned at the man. "Who are you."

"You're kidding me."

"Uh, Marc, Tony's in college," Steve explained.

"Marc?" Tony echoed.

"Uh yeah. I'm Jonas's son."

"Oh..."

"Tony? You okay?" Steve's voice asked next to his ear, hand warm on his shoulder.

"Uh. Fine. Fine, why wouldn't I be fine? This is just... a little weird." He maybe gripped the counter a little tighter than necessary to steady himself in this world. Steve's face edged into his peripheral.

"I feel like it'd be really inappropriate to say 'now you know how I felt.'" Steve smiled at him softly.

Blinking a few times, the laugh burst out of him and then took over until he was shaking and bent over.

"Tony?"

"Mr. Stark?" Marc said. "A glass of water?"

"Oh fuck... That was...a trip. Yeah, water..." Mr. Stark. That was sobering. Mr. Stark had always been his father. Mr. Stark. Tony straightened and caught his breath. "Uh, our usual table?" he asked when Marc returned.

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

And if Tony shivered at the name, well. No one was going to comment. Lunch went on as Tony had planned in his head. Steve frowned fiercely at him when the glass of wine Tony signalled for arrived at their table.

"Tony..."

"What?"

"You don't drink."

"Sure I do."

Steve rolled his eyes. "No. You don't."

"Oh. But I do. Lay off, geeze." He sipped the wine and then looked back down at his plate, reaching for his fork. Steve's big hand clamped down on his wrist. "Uh, Steve?"

"Tony. You don't drink. It..."

"It what, Steve. Spit it out. Geeze."

"It became a problem."

"A problem," Tony repeated flatly, setting down the knife. "And what does that mean?"

"It means..." Steve took a deep breath and then looked him square in the face. "It means that you have problems with liquor. You were... It was an addiction."

Squaring his shoulders, Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve. The thought dashed cold water all over his good mood. Like father, like son, huh. "I was alcoholic."

"You will be."

"Fuck."

"I wish you wouldn't curse so much."

"Great. Anything _else_ wrong that you can fix about me?"

Steve straightened in his chair. "What?"

"So I'm an alcoholic."

"Recovering."

Tony scowled down at his plate. "Fuck."

"What did you mean 'fix you,' Tony?" Steve asked quietly.

"You know, I try and I try, Steve. I like you, you know." He threw himself against the back of his chair, folding his arms. "I like you a lot. You're kinda my hero." There went his mouth. "And I wanna like you. But you're making it _really fucking hard_."

The other man blanched and looked like he'd been slapped. "What did I do?"

"You always have to bring up my father."

"Tony..." Steve said slowly. "I've never _mentioned_ your father. You don't...didn't...won't...shoot. You always get this look—yeah, that one—whenever I mention your dad, so I don't."

"I get this look, huh? Well maybe it's because I find out that I turned out _just fucking like him_."

"_Je_sus, Tony." Steve looked around. "Look, if we're going to argue, can we do it somewhere else?"

"And now you're embarrassed to be seen with me." He threw up his hands.

"No, you're causing a scene, and I'd rather air our dirty laundry in private," Steve pleaded.

"Oh awesome. Because I'm not good enough, and I'm just a dumb kid who doesn't know any better and can't get control over his life!" Tony shouted, jumping to his feet. He inhaled sharply, looked around and then stalked out of the restaurant towards the car. _Fuck_. That's not how he wanted that to go. That wasn't... He swore long and low, dragging a hand over his face. Pulling out the cell phone he'd been told was his, he scrolled through the contacts, realising that he knew next to none of these people and then threw himself into the car. He was just starting up the engine when the passenger door flew open and Steve slid into the seat, folding his arms after he buckled in. "What are you doing."

"Waiting for you to either talk or drive us home."

"I don't have a license," Tony retorted.

"Doesn't mean you don't know how to drive," Steve said calmly, not looking at Tony.

"I could crash the car."

"You won't."

"Oh yeah? Beca—"

"Yeah. Because I'm in it," Steve said, fixing his blue eyes firmly on Tony.

"Just beca—"

"And you said so yourself; I'm your hero. You're not going to kill your hero."

Heart beating fast, Tony sneered at him and then backed the car out and sped home, fuming the entire time. When he parked the car, neither of them moved—Tony hunched towards the steering wheel (lowered because he wasn't as fucking tall as Steve), the aforementioned jerk-wad relaxed in his seat except for the crease on his forehead and his still-folded arms.

"You know what!" Tony blurted, making Steve twitch. "Fuck you."

Steve didn't move.

Tony angled towards him. "Fuck you and your perfect hair and world-saving, condescending smile and perfect body! Fuck you and your world! Fuck you and your little team of superheroes who all think I'm some sort of joke! Fuck you for thinking that you need to _fix _me like I'm some anomaly that you need to correct! Fuck you and...and..."

"Are you finished?" Steve turned to look at him, face blank.

"Screw you, Steve Rogers," Tony mumbled, dropping his gaze to the steering wheel again.

"What's the matter, Tony," Steve said quietly.

He growled and dropped his head to the steering wheel.

"Tony. What's the matter." Steve's hand was warm on his shoulder.

"Get offa me."

"I just... I want to _help_. All that stuff you said at the restaurant. Listen, I'm sorry if I make you think about your dad. I am. I don't mean to."

"But everything you say, Steve, is always...God. It's everything my dad told me. And now you tell me I end up a drunk bastard like him?"

"No! You're nothing like your dad, Tony! You're smart, you're witty like him, but nothing else. You stopped weapons production at Stark Industries. I mean, you're the guy that privatised world peace!"

"I what?"

Steve shook his head. "Come on; let's get out of the car."

Feeling somewhat mollified, Tony sighed and kicked the door shut after he got out, tossing the keys to dummy. Who missed and dipped his robotic head to find them. "Geeze, why do I still have that thing..."

Steve laughed. "You may pretend not to, but you're actually really sentimental. Look, over here is your Pepper Award."

"My what?"

"You were involved in an accident. And you were in a cave in Afghanistan, and you had to create a mechanism to keep shards of metal from entering your heart. So with nothing but a cave of scraps you created an arc reactor small enough to fit in your chest. This was the first one." Steve picked up the box and handed it to Tony.

"Oh God. This is in my chest? What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you, Tony. You're a genius!"

"'Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart?' What the hell!" He shoved the thing back at Steve, feeling over his own smooth chest, everything where it was supposed to be.

"Tony... Okay. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to show you... I... I'm screwing everything up again, aren't I?" His face flushed again.

"Uh, yeah you are, boyscout."

Steve flushed more.

"Alright. Alright here. Let's just... You like me?"

"Yeah. You're my best friend."

"Really."

"Of course." Steve frowned slightly, measuring Tony.

"Okay. Then let's give this a go. You stop trying to make things better and just let them be. I'll try to stop flipping out on ya about stuff my dad says. Capiche?"

"Um. Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Tony waited a moment and then nodded, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. "So uh... friends. Do we ever..." He waggled a finger between them, really actually enjoying the deep red colour that Steve's face was becoming.

"Wh-what? N-no! We never—"

"Do you wanna?"

"_Tony_!" Steve's jaw hung loose, eyes wide. "You're under age!"

"Interesting. Not a 'no' then." Tony grinned at him and sauntered out of the workshop, leaving Steve slack-jawed and dumb-struck behind him to watch his ass walk away.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve was screwed. No. Screwed was a bad term to use. Their lunch date, now code-named Operation I-Royally-Screwed-Up, had been three and a half days ago. And Steve had been on egg-shells ever since. Not easy when you're 6 foot two and about 220 pounds. Downright exhausting. And Tony... Geeze, Tony. He was a problem alright. He was driving Steve crazy! The boy was just that... A boy. But he was getting Steve all flustered and hot under the collar. And it really wasn't fair. Steve knew that Tony had admired him. But Tony's words kept playing back. _You're kinda my hero._ He was Tony's hero. Tony admired him that much. He was Tony Stark's hero. Maybe that was why Tony had been prickly when they had first been introduced. Groaning, Steve dragged his hands down his face.

"Thinking too much?"

Steve sat ramrod straight. "Tony!"

"You seem to be having a problem." He sauntered in, perfectly presentable, suit crisp and neat, hair tousled artfully.

The only problem with his problem was that his problem wanted him to talk to him about his problem which was currently—oh God—leaning up against his desk with a problem-sized smile that was giving Steve problems below the waist—_crap_. "Heeey, Tony."

"You okay, Cap? It's hot in your office. You can put the shades down you know." Tony shifted his glass from his right hand to his left, unbuttoning another button.

That was downright indecent. So he smiled. "Hot? No. It's fine. I'm fine."

Tony snorted. "Liar."

"You don't know that."

"No, but your face just now told me so." Tony grinned like a cat with a fat canary, leaning in towards him. "Aw, look at you."

"What about me?" Tony was officially going to be the death of him. Where Nazis, everyday bad guys, the arctic, and the Red Skull failed, Tony Stark, a 16-year-old billionaire, genius, total playboy, maybe-not-so-much-philanthropist yet.

"You're all red."

"Tony!" Steve pushed back in his chair, swivelling to face the kid. "You need to stop this."

"Stop what?" He widened his eyes, jerking when Steve yelled, "Stop!" Steve took a deep breath. "Flirting. You need to stop flirting."

This earned him a contemplative cocking of Tony's head. "Why? It's all in good fun. Oh God, you're not—it's not sexual harassment, is it?"

"No! No, it's not. It's not that."

Tony jerked his chin up, a small smile teasing his lips upward. "Steve."

"What Tony."

"Steve," he said again.

"_What_ Tony."

"Steve, are you thinking about me?"

"Why can't you just get straight to the point," Steve moaned, dropping his head onto the back of his chair.

"You've been thinking about me, Steve." Tony's voice dropped lower and he moved forward.

"Stop it. Stay where you are. I can't..." Steve shook his head. This was ridiculous. And more than a little hot-under-the-collar.

"Steve. You done this before?" Tony was in between his legs. He leaned into Steve's space, hands on the armrests.

"_Tony_... You're under age." Steve pressed back into the plush leather. "We can't... team dynamics... fraternisation..."

"But you've wanted too, right? Admit it..." Tony purred.

"N-no, we can't!"

"What do you think about? Do you think about me calling your name? I've seen the way you react—_Steve. Steve!_"

"_Tony_! Stop!" Steve pushed at his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. "Thi—this is embarrassing..."

"Why. It's just sex. It's a natural thing. You think about me in the shower? How do you want me, Steve?"

Whining a little, Steve pushed more at Tony's shoulder, turning his head away. He still felt Tony's breath against his cheek. "I can't... Damn it, Tony, I'm a virgin!" Then Tony's warmth was unexpectedly gone. When Steve cracked an eye to look up at the kid, certain his own face was a bright red, he was surprised to see Tony's cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

"Really?" Tony's normal voice was back, but his blues were wide, brows high.

Steve groaned. "That's... Oh shit."

"Can you say that? You are Captain America, you know."

"Thanks," Steve drawled sourly. "I didn't realise that. I _do_ swear, you know."

"I do now." The kid grinned again. Steve wished he could have more of that expression.

"Tony, we can't do this. You're... you're so young... And I can't... I can't do that to you."

Tony nodded. "Hm. Well."

"You understand, right?"

"Sure I understand. You're nervous... I'm not me-sized..."

"That doesn't—" Steve shook his head. "You're not getting it."

"No, I get it. You've got morals. I don't. As usual, I'm sensing," Tony said lightly. He backed off with hands held up in surrender. "I get it. That's fine." He paused by the door. "But you know... I could always..." Made a scrunched face. "You know. Do you." Gave his best shit-eating grin and then was gone.

Steve groaned and thought about cold showers, ice cubes, _the Arctic_, and then gave up and thumped his head against the desk a few times. Not that it helped.

* * *

><p>Steve thought the situation was settled until the team was all sitting around the table talking shop and Tony said, "You know. You guys should let me help. I have more experience than you think." All while looking right at Steve. Who promptly snorted his Coke. He then grinned while Natasha clapped him on the back and Thor frowned at him.<p>

"I'm sorry," Steve coughed. "Take fifteen. I'm gonna go change my shirt."

"Want help with that," Tony whispered in the door-jam as Steve passed.

"You've done enough," Steve hissed back.

Tony looked up at him from buffing his nails, pulling the innocent again. "Really? I'm great with clothes. I can get the stain out for you." And smiled.

Steve glared at him and just for spite stripped off his shirt, tossed it at Tony, and then stalked into his room (which used to be Tony's!) and found a clean tee. "Shit!" he jumped as he opened the door to find Tony standing there, hands clasped behind his back.

"Heya, Steve."

"Whatever it is, _no_." Steve said taking a step back—tactical mistake. Tony entered his room.

"Too bad. You know, if you're nervous, I can take it slow with you."

"Tony, you're being _shameless_!"

"What's wrong with that? If it gets me what I want, what's wrong with that?"

He was doing that purring thing again. Steve circled around and was out the door before Tony could back him into the bed. "We can't. Stop, Tony. You've got to stop."

Tony pouted. "Don't tell me you don't want me..."

Steve clamped his mouth shut. Bad places. This was going bad places. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Steve headed back to the kitchen quickly. "Okay! Meeting back in session!"

The thing was, it didn't stop there. Tony continued to tease him over the next week, driving him completely bonkers. By Friday evening, Steve fled to his room and collapsed against his locked door. He groaned, pressing a heel to his groin. Stripping his shirt off, Steve headed into the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth. The cold water helped. Changing into flannels he shuffled back into his room and flopped onto his bed, screeching and immediately rolling off as a hand touched his shoulder.

"Wow. Freak out much?"

"_TONY_." Steve grit his teeth, taking a deep breath to calm the adrenaline now flooding his system.

Tony's white teeth flashed in the darkness, the sheet falling down to his waist as he leaned up on an elbow.

"Oh God. Please tell me you're not naked in my bed..."

"Sure thing. I'm not naked in your bed." And flashed his teeth again. Tony patted the empty space. "Come on, gorgeous. Let me show you how it's done."

"Tony, there is no way in hell we're doing this."

"Yeah we are. Come on. You're a virgin. I'll show you the ropes."

"You. Can't! You're under age!" He flicked on the bed-side lamp.

Tony rolled his eyes. "In case it escaped your notice, I've done this before."

"I know! And that's even worse! Tony! It's against the law."

"Which we all know of which you are a fine up-standing citizen," Tony purred, eyes hooded.

Steve muttered profanities under his breath. "Jesus, you're going to be the death of me."

"Is that giving in I hear?" Tony teased the sheet lower displaying taut young abs and thin hips.

Steve groaned and forced himself to look away.

"Do I make you hot? You make me hot." Tony smirked. "Look, Steve. You're gorgeous. I want you. You want me. There's no problem."

Peeking was a mistake. Tony had rolled sideways a bit so the sheet tented over his penis. He felt his face flare up and looked at the ceiling. Heard Tony sigh.

"C'mere. Get on the bed, Steve."

"I need to leave," he muttered, turning away.

"Steve!" Tony barked. "Get. On. The bed."

Jerking, he turned to face Tony, eyes wide. He reached for the hand that was offered to him automatically and found himself jerked off his balance, falling to the bed. "No, wait—"

"Shh," Tony said, rolling back onto his side and rubbing hands up and down Steve's arms. "Now here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna take things nice and slow, but we're going to get to sex by the end of the night. Capiche?"

Steve buried his face in his pillow, muttering, "I don't know who told you to lose the 'capiche' thing, but I'm really glad it's gone..."

"You don't like it?" He could hear the pout in Tony's voice.

"No," he groaned.

"Well. Whatever. Maybe it was Rhodey. He always gets annoyed when I say it."

"You and he ever..." Steve asked, looking up at Tony sharply.

"Huh?" Tony blinked at him and then laughed. "No. No we didn't."

"Do you... Um. When I know you, you're always with women... I didn't think..."

Tony shrugged. "Whatever. I don't know what I do in the future. I just like pretty people."

"You just want me for my body?" Steve drawled, turning it into a joke.

"Oh no, Steve. You're something special," Tony promised, voice low as he pushed at Steve's shoulder to roll him over.

"Yeah, going to the special hell..." Steve muttered, obliging. Tony frowned but followed, inching on top of Steve. "Oh God, you _are_ naked!"

"Duh, Steve. Duh." Tony chuckled and then pressed his lips to Steve's.

Steve winced.

"Wow. You really are new at this."

"No, I—" He swallowed his words, Tony hot against him, skin smooth, so different from the man he called his friend. "Just...reconciling you and...well. Other you. Older you. Oh geeze, I can't do this—I can't—" Tony's lips covered his again, just pressure, just touching. Then Tony's hands framing his face. Tony shifting on top of him. Oh God. Chest to chest. Hips to...other places. Steve pushed Tony off, rolling over him on his hands and knees as...places...got hard.

"Well hey there. We can do things this way." Tony reached up and smoothed his hands across Steve's clavicle and down his arms, then over his chest and down his sides. "Huh, ticklish?"

"N-no!"

Tony grinned, dropped his eyes, laughed, and then pulled Steve down for a kiss. "Just kissing. For now. Relax. You are way too tense."

"I'm not..."

"I know. Here. Lie face down. Let's get used to touch. I'll give you a massage."

Steve bit his lip and then nodded, freeing Tony from beneath him and then resting his head on his forearms. Tony's weight settled across his lower back, and Steve did not think about how Tony was naked. His fingers digging into his shoulders? That he could think about. "Wow..." he breathed as Tony's thumbs pressed at the base of his neck.

"Dated a masseuse," Tony said.

* * *

><p>Almost ten minutes in and Steve was melted into the mattress, making soft little noises of happiness that made Tony's cock jerk a little. He shifted carefully so he was putting more of his weight on Steve's ass, kneading lower. Five more minutes and he was leaning up, straddling Steve's thighs while he dug into Steve's lower back, shifting his hands down onto his ass to get him used to touch. Stroking up and down Steve's hips to knead at his thighs a little then palm his butt. Steve just sighed. Tony grinned.<p>

He shifted again, dipping his head to kiss the small of Steve's back. Then lick into the small creases there and kiss the base of his spine. Steve shivered. Murmured his name.

Tony bit his lip hard, remembering slow. Slow. He pressed his thumbs into the top of Steve's spine and then swiped them down through his crack, pressing at his hole.

Steve yelped and then clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Steve... Steve, I want you..." Tony crooned next to Steve's ear, immediately rewarded with a shudder. "You want me?"

"_Yes_..." Steve moaned as Tony pressed again.

"Good, good," he said quietly, reaching down over the edge of the bed for the lube he'd brought in, tossing the condom onto the bed next to him. Cracking the lid of the lube, he poured some onto his fingers, smearing it between them to warm it a bit. "Ready?"

"I'm fine," Steve said quickly.

Tony glanced up at him, Steve's fingers tangled in the sheets, white-knuckled. Shaking his head he pressed more kisses to Steve's back, smearing a slick thumb down his crack until the fingers relaxed. Steve inhaled sharply as he pressed the tip of his thumb in.

"Tony...!"

"You okay?" He twisted his thumb a bit, pulling back, pushing in.

Hips shifting a little, Steve replied breathlessly, "Y-yeah..."

So Tony played a little, switching from his thumb to a finger, waiting until Steve pushed back to add another, becoming aware that he was crooning soft noises meant for comfort. He huffed quietly and pushed his fingers in deeper to make Steve gasp.

"Tony!"

"Still doin' okay, Steve?" Resting his forehead between the other man's shoulder blades, Tony mouthed at his skin. "Steve, you're so hot..."

"Fine, I'm fine..." Steve grunted and pushed back on Tony's fingers.

"Ready for another?"

"Another?" Steve arched into the mattress.

"Yeah, baby, another finger. You're doin' so well. I love your ass, Steve. Love your ass." He laughed softly then nudged Steve's legs further apart to get his knees between them. "Look at you. You're red as a tomato."

"That's...embarrassing, Tony. You're shameless. This is embarrassing," Steve gasped sharply as Tony pulled his fingers back and wormed a third in, along with more lube.

"You're doing great." Tony watched his fingers disappear into Steve's ass, free hand tracing along Steve's hip or kneading at his shoulders. "Just tell me when you're ready. We'll go slow. Won't hurt you, promise."

"Tony," Steve gasped, hips jerking beneath him, "no offense, but you're half my...uhn... size. You're not gonna hurt me!"

"Alright, big guy," Tony said. "Does that mean you're ready?" He pressed his fingers in again, listening for Steve's groan, and grabbed the condom with his free hand.

"Yes..._yes_. Jesus, you're driving me crazy, Tony. You're driving me crazy," Steve panted, pushing back hard on Tony's fingers. "I've never..._uhn_."

"Yeah, almost..." Tony pulled his fingers out with a lewd noise, Steve's hips twitching.

"Oh God..."

"Just noise, Steve. Noises are part of sex." He ripped the packet open and rolled the condom on himself. "Hey... hey Steve. Wanna see? Look how hard I am for you..."

Steve craned his head around, flushed, dropped his head before looking back again for a second glance. "Oh shit... I can't believe I'm doing this. Tony—_Tony_!"

"Relax, Steve. I said I'd take care of you, right?" Tony smiled and coated his cock heavily with lube. "Relax. You gotta relax." He petted Steve's hip, getting up on his knees, poised. "You okay?"

"Yes!" Steve hissed. "I'm fine. Stop asking! I'll tell you if I'm not!"

"Yeah," Tony said huskily. "You tell me." He nudged his cock up against Steve's hole, pulling his cheeks apart and pushing in.

"Fff..._oh_... Oh Tony..." Steve gasped as Tony sank in slowly. "Oh God. Tony. Oh shi—fffuu—uh...!"

"Who'd have guessed...you'd be...oh _Steve_...so vocal during sex.." Tony grunted. He let out a shuddery breath as he pushed in as far as he would go.

"S-shut up..." Steve hissed, hips twitching minutely. "Oh God. Never thought..."

"Jesus. Shit fuck. Let me know when I can move." His arm started to shake as he waited, poised over Steve. "Shit, 'cause I really need to move."

"Yes! Yes please, yes." Steve reached up and grabbed the headboard.

Tony rolled his hips once, Steve's gasping whine driving him to do it again. "Yeah, Steve... You have...uhn...no idea..."

"What, of what, Tony?" Steve was pushing back against Tony's hips. "Tell me."

"Oh God. I'm... I can't believe this... Yeah, come on! This is _you_, Steve...! Captain America. God you're tight." Tony moaned into Steve's back, mouthing at his muscles.

Steve suddenly gave a strangled shout. "Y-you—oh my God shit! _Do that again_!"

Gripping Steve's hip hard as he bucked, Tony thrust into him again, hard. "Steve... Steve Steve...Steve..." he chanted on each thrust, heat burning through him as Steve cried out when Tony must have nailed his prostate.

"Oh God, Tony...! Almost—I'm close!" He reached back and tugged at Tony's hip. "Please...!"

With a grunt, Tony grit his teeth trying to hold off, pushing in hard and worming a hand under Steve's hips. "Come on, Steve! I can't... much longer." Snaking his other arm around Steve's chest, Tony laid himself out over Steve's back. When his other hand circled Steve's dick, the man shouted into the pillow and convulsed, clenching hard around Tony. "Ffuuuuuh...!" Tony panted, the word almost a whine as he clenched his eyes and came hard.

Steve was limp beneath him, but Tony moved with each breath, proud of himself for putting Captain America out of breath.

"Tony..."

He focused on catching his own breath.

"Tony... I can _feel_ you grinning."

He laughed softly. "Well, I did just steal your virginity."

Steve groaned.

"Oh geeze. Stop. Stop moving. Too sensitive..." Tony inhaled sharply. "Stop! Stay still. I'm gonna... Stay still and relax." Tony lifted himself onto his arms and leaned back, pulling out of Steve with another lewd noise. Pulling off the condom, he tied it off and rolled to drop it into the trash. "That was pretty amazing. Amazing?" He glanced at Steve who was still red in the face.

"Y-yeah... It was good."

"Good." Tony levelled him with an arched brow. "Steve, Tony Stark does not _do_ good. Tony Stark does awesome or go home."

"Careful there," Steve drawled. "Only supervillains refer to themselves in the third person..."

Tony laughed, stretching up to kiss Steve. "Stay here. I'll grab a towel and clean you off."

"Oh shoot! I—the sheets."

Tony snorted. "Don't worry about it."

"But I—"

"Steve. Awesome or go home. Who cares about the sheets."

Steve flushed.

"Aw man. My legs..." But he managed to stand and paused at the bathroom door to look back at Steve stretched out on his bed in the soft incandescent glow, looking well-fucked and messy. Maybe Tony could do a round two... He grinned and shook his head. Clean up.

* * *

><p>Steve woke slowly, groaning immediately and arching into Tony's mouth. "I's too early for this..." he slurred. "Thought you weren't a morning person..."<p>

Tony pulled off him and smirked, eyes a perfect phthalo blue, dark hair sticking up everywhere. "Who said that?"

"You. Repeatedly," Steve groaned, letting his head fall back into the pillow. "I'm not..."

"Let me finish?"

"When did you...oh Jesus, Tony...change...?" Tony just hummed making Steve jerk his hips up. "Oh God. Sorry! I'm sorry!" Steve curled forward as Tony pulled off, coughing.

"Calm down, Steve. I'm fine." And then pushed at Steve's shoulder and held his hips down. "Ever had this done before?"

"Uh... no?"

"Didn't think so. But let me tell ya something. I'm good." And then closed his lips around the head of Steve's... Another couple passes of his tongue and Tony hummed before pulling off. "You can put your hands in my hair, you know, instead of ripping the sheets."

"Oh my God, am I ripping the sheets?" Steve sat forward, hands in the air. "I'll..." There was nothing wrong with them. "Oh funny."

Tony grinned.

Scooting back to lean on the headboard, Steve licked his lips and watched Tony go down on him. "Oh. Wow."

Tony looked up at him through his lashes, dimples appearing in his cheeks as he almost-smiled with his lips stretched.

"Tony..." And slipped a hand into that wild dark hair to keep himself from thrusting. "How are you... You're so gorgeous..." He shifted awkwardly. "To—Tony. Tony, I'm gonna—"

Tony reached for the same washcloth he'd used last night and pulled off after one last suck and then stroked Steve until he came, head hitting the headboard and toes curling into the sheets.

When Steve had air again and a coherent thought, he looked up to see Tony stroking himself lazily. "I... do you want... I can..."

"Stroke me off? Make me come?" Tony leered. "Come on, Steve. Say it and I'll let you do it while we shower?"

Steve nodded quickly and shuddered with pride as Tony leaned back against him and shouted when he came in the shower. When they were both towelled off and Steve half-ways dressed, he turned to see Tony sighing at his clothes. "Something wrong, Tony?"

"No clean clothes. I'm gonna duck back to my room and get some."

"You want to borrow something of mine?"

Tony looked him up and down. "Sure. I'll just take to wearing dresses too."

"Well, it's not permana—" He froze at the beeping noise of his communicator.

"What's that? Alert? Is there a problem?" Tony crowded up behind Steve.

"You can't come," he said, staring Tony down. The familiar stubborn set of his face glared back.

"Why not?"

"You're not you!"

"Steve, don't you insult me again," Tony growled lowly.

"I've gotta go. Tony, _please_ stay here. I don't want to be worrying about you while we're trying to fight off whoever or whatever this is for. _Please_ promise me you'll stay here?" Gripping his shoulders lightly, Steve kissed his forehead and then dashed for his costume, dressed in minutes. As he rushed off with the rest of the team leaving Tony naked save for a towel on his bed, he couldn't shake the bad feeling rumbling through his gut.

Sure enough, halfway through their fight against something Loki'd cooked up, Iron Man appeared. Natasha's curse alerted him something was wrong, and by the time Steve's eyes lit on Tony, the kid was blasting the pig-horse creature and distracting it away from Clint who had been struggling with his bow.

"You need a new bow, Barton!"

"Shut up, Stark! You're supposed to make me one!" Clint snapped back over the comms.

"_Tony_! I told you to stay at the mansion!" Steve said lowly.

"And miss all the fun?"

"Man of Iron! Behind you!" Thor shouted, Mjolnir flying.

But Tony dropped out of the way and dove around a lamp post to blast the creature again.

Steve growled to himself and whirled his shield to help him out. He didn't want to admit to the fact that Tony's presence actually helped end the fight sooner. It didn't stop Steve from dressing him down when they got back to the mansion.

"What were you _thinking_!"

"That I was, I don't know, _helping_!" Tony waved a hand in the air, stomping around in the Iron Man boots.

"Tony, stop that! Take the suit off."

"Why? It's mine! I like it! And I want to keep it on!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Can't you... You know what. Never mind." He threw up his hands. "I know you're going to insist on joining us. I don't want to fight. Not with you."

"Doing a good job of that," Tony retorted.

"Listen! Will you just..." He sighed. "Tony. Just _promise_ me that you'll be careful. _Please_? I want you to be careful. I can't..." When he glanced up at his friend's face, Tony's features were schooled in to a careful mask, not quite what he used when he was his older self, but one that threw up walls. "Will you be careful? For me?"

"I'll be careful," he said quietly, looking down at his feet. "I promise."

"Thank you," Steve exhaled. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"But," Tony continued as if Steve hadn't said anything, "that doesn't mean that you can't be careful too. You promise _me_."

"Tony, of _course_. I'm careful. I just... I know you. And sometimes you get so into it that you become less cautious."

Tony snorted. "Steve. Right now I'm a teenager on top of the world, fucking Captain America—thank you very much—and I'm a bad-guy-fighting-superhero. This is any kid's dream come true. So I'm having a little fun with it. So sue me."

"Careful. I'm sure Pepper and I could arrange that."

Rolling his eyes and making a small noise in the back of his throat, Tony started working on the couplings on the suit. "This is kinda fun. But I'll make sure I'm more careful."

"Good." One step and he was in front of Tony. The suit still made him taller, but Tony's eyes were only level with his lips. "I couldn't lose you now."

Tony blinked at him, eyes wide, face flushing red suddenly.

"You're blushing," Steve blurted. And then grinned widely. "You're blushing!"

"Steve! Stoppit! Shut up!"

"I made Tony Stark blush!"

"You did?" Pepper said, heels clicking as she entered the study. "What did you say?"

Steve subtly stepped away so he was an appropriate distance when Pepper looked up from her phone.

"Nothing!" Tony said, elbowing Steve.

And damn that hurt in the suit. He grunted, rolling his eyes at Tony.

"I'm just hot in the suit."

"Can't figure out the AC?" Pepper quipped, setting papers down on the desk.

"I have AC in here?"

Steve smirked. Tony knew very well there was AC in there.

"So what d'you need, Pep?"

She tossed a fond look his way and then sighed. "Sign some papers. You'll get your company back when you're older."

"That's no fun."

"Yes, well. It's hardly fitting for a sixteen year old to head up the company yet. Wait," Pepper smacked her forehead lightly. "What am I thinking. We _always_ have a sixteen year old heading up the company."

"Hey! I'd like to think that I become more mature with age."

"Barely, Tony," Pepper laughed. "So give me your Hancock and then I'll get out of you two lovebirds' hair."

"Hey—what?" Tony blanched at her. Steve laughed.

"You're hardly obvious." Pepper rolled her eyes. "You've been mooning at him for ever. And you'd hardly be walking around with that I've-just-kissed-Captain-America smirk if it weren't true... You finally confessed."

Tony grabbed for Steve's arm. "Oh God. What do I pay you."

Pepper grinned and tilted her head. "Enough. Not that I'd ever tell you that."

"But you're telling me now..."

"Yes. Yes, I am. And warning you that you had darn well better be careful, Tony Stark. You're young. We can have news of you dating a man more than ten years your senior when you're still under age. And _all _I had better hear about is kissing. Am I clear? Good. Because Tony, you've got to know that anything beyond that _is _against the law. Now. Any news on when you'll be back to your original age?"

"No one's been able to come up with anything. Thor said he assumes this is all for Loki's amusement," Steve said. "And of course, no one really knows Loki's goals at all."

Pepper nodded. "Of course. Well. Play nice." She gave Steve a wink and Tony a kiss on the cheek on the way out.

"Wow. I can see why I hired her..." Tony said softly, staring after her.

"Should I be jealous...?"

Tony patted his arm, gaze still trained after Pepper. "Don't worry, gorgeous. It's all you." Tony started. "Oh man! I wonder if my stuff is still in that closet!"

"Huh?"

Tony grinned at him. "So as you are now aware, I am a fan of pretty much anything Captain America..."

"Oh no..."

"Oh yeah, baby! Let's get me out of this suit and then I can show you the wonder of my collection!"

* * *

><p>Hours later, Tony and Steve were tangled on Tony's bed having pleaded off, probably not so subtly, movie night. Well. Really not subtly at all. Clint rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, 'finally' and Natasha smiled—small and scary—but smiled. Thor waved at them.<p>

"So," Tony asked as he flopped off Steve. "Do we have any secrets here at all?"

"I'd say not..." Steve panted.

"Cool."

Steve grunted in reply.

"Think I'll just stay like this?"

"I hope not," Steve said.

"Why?" Tony demanded, leaning up on an elbow.

"No, no, I don't mean it like that..." Steve said gently, brushing a hand over Tony's cheek. "I just mean... Well. Older you and I have a long friendship. And as fun as it would be to rebuild that with you, there are things that I miss with hi—older you. You were the first person I met out of the ice, did you know that?"

"I didn't..." Tony said quietly, dropping his eyes. "Lucky me, huh?"

Steve laughed softly. "Yeah. Lucky you."

"So what. You imprinted on me and became my—what? Why are you making that face?" Tony frowned at Steve in confusion.

"That word."

"What word?"

"Imprint."

"Yeah..."

"Don't use it." Steve screwed up his face again and shuddered.

"Did I miss something?"

"Yeah. About thirty years of pop culture. And trust me when I say that some things are best left un-learned."

"Uh... Right..." Tony shook his head and flopped back down next to Steve, nestling against his side.

A month later and it was almost as if Tony never left. He made new plans for R&D, fought well on the team, and fixed Clint's bow. Twice. Even Fury was used to the idea of having young Tony Stark with them for the rest of their lives. He glared fearsomely when Tony suggested that he'd outlive Fury, however. Steve had covered a giggle, making Tony incredibly pleased. And maybe more than a little smug. In fact, everything was pretty much going his way. Steve was great. Pepper was a doll. Rhodey was his same old grouch self. The Avengers were freaking awesome. His company was pretty sweet. And he got to play with robots and mechanical shit all day long. Life _really_ couldn't get any better. He whistled as he made his coffee, hopping from one foot to the other, dancing to music running through his head.

"Anthony!"

Tony jumped, grappling for the counter as he whirled. "Jesus! Thor! Don't sneak up on a guy like that! For someone of your size, I'm _really_ impressed with your ability to do that, but it really creeps me out."

"Ah, noted. How are you?"

"Uh. I'm good... Thor. How are you?"

"I am... well. Thank you."

"Um." Tony slipped his hands into his pockets. "Right. Well. This is an awkward conversation."

"I do not mean it to be."

"What do you want, Thor?"

Thor looked around, ducked his head, and then hunched towards Tony.

"Hey. Come on, buddy. Spit it out." Tony grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I may...be able to convince my brother to undo his spell."

"Uhh..." Tony blinked, not expecting that of all things to come from Thor's mouth. "I don't..."

"Please. Think on it. I will only do as you wish. I am happy for you, my friend. You are loved. And I am unsure of the consequences of changing you back. You look happy. And I am glad."

He laughed nervously, looking everywhere but at Thor. "Um. Wow. You make it sound like I'm pretty miserable in the future."

"You are...reserved. In some things. Your vices cause you pain," Thor said lowly. "I do not like to see you in pain, Anthony. Therefore, you decide whether or not you wish to stay as you are or return to your former self."

All joy having evaporated like morning dew from grass, Tony shifted his weight. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah. Sure. I'll do that."

Thor grabbed his arm. "Either way, my friend, we are glad to have you."

"Hey, uh. Thor? Do you know... Like, is this time travel? Will I remember everything that's happened if I 'go back?' Or will I remember everything that's happened when I'm back as an adult?"

Managing a smile, Thor shook his head. "I do not know."

"Right. Right, no that's fine. I'll...think. Thanks. Buddy."

"Of course, Stark. You are my friend. I count it a privilege to be such."

"Yeah," Tony replied roughly. "Yeah, thanks, Thor." Grabbing his now full cup of caffeine, Tony escaped down to his workshop to work himself to exhaustion while his brain worked through this problem.

* * *

><p>"What's with Tony?" Steve frowned around at everyone sitting before the TV.<p>

"He's downstairs," Natasha said without turning around.

"I know that. But what's wrong with him?"

"We figured you'd know best," Clint smirked, mouth full of popcorn.

Sighing, Steve shook his head. "He hasn't talked to me in almost a week."

"Must be that time of the month."

"Shut up, Clint," half of the Avengers chorused.

Clint just shrugged. "He's probably in one of those funks."

"Yeah, but..." Steve trailed off, helpless for an explanation. "This isn't normal... He was..." Happy. Tony had been happy. And this wasn't normal. For Tony. For now. Not when everything was so good.

"Just go talk to him," Natasha said quietly.

"I don't..." He bit the side of his thumb and wandered down the stairs, pausing at the door like he'd done so many times these past days. Pausing with fingers poised over the keypad, but not entering the code to go in.

"Jesus, Steve, just come in," Tony's voice said, startling him. "Door's open. For fuck's sake."

"Language," Steve murmured, pushing open the door.

"What do you want?" Tony's voice echoed through all of the parts and pieces, the shop more of a mess than usual.

"I'm worried about you. I've hardly seen you—still can't. Tony, where are you?"

"In the back, Steve, I'm fine."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Steve said lightly. "But I miss you." He almost missed the small sound that Tony made. Making his way through the piles of...stuff, he found Tony on the floor, dirty, and surrounded by half-finished projects. "What's going on?" he asked quietly as he knelt next to Tony.

"Do you want old me back?"

The wrecked desperation in Tony's voice gave him pause.

Tony didn't look at him and took his silence as some kind of answer, because he went on. "Because I don't know what happens to me, then. I don't know where these memories go! And they're good ones, Steve. I wouldn't want to lose them. And older me is unhappy. I'd never say it aloud. But I'm not happy. I'm probably pretty fucking miserable, actually. And you guys all seem so happy when I'm...I don't know. Young? Controllable? Happy? Involved? Not drinking? I just..."

"Woah, woah. Tony. Stop. This... This is a bad road to go down. Stop blaming yourself, first of all. That's... Geeze." He ran his hands through his hair and sucked in air. "Is _this _what you've been thinking about this whole time?"

"Not... Not the whole time. But a lot. I just..." Tony looked up at Steve, so young. So so young.

"Oh Tony..." Gathering him into his arms, Steve sat back on the concrete floor and held him. "Any way you are, we want you."

"That's what Thor said."

"Thor?" Steve frowned, pushing Tony back to look him in the face. "What did Thor say?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "He said he could get his brother to reverse it."

"Reve—_Jesus_! _That's_ what prompted all of this?"

"No! Well yes. But—Steve. Calm down." Tony grabbed Steve's shoulders, settling in his lap. "Just calm down. It's fine. I just... I was thinking."

"Yeah, from experience, that's not always something you should do alone."

Laughing softly, Tony shook his head. "I don't... Should I turn back?"

"What do you want?"

"I don't know what I want! What do _you _want?"

"I want you."

"And you say that with a straight face..." Tony grumbled.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"What do I want..." Tony whined, going boneless in Steve's lap. "I don't knoooow..."

Steve snorted. "That's nothing new."

"Well yeah, but this kind of has a big effect on, you know. _Everything_."

"I—oh crap," Steve grabbed for his communicator, Tony reaching it first to turn it off. "Just. Wait to see what feels right?"

"I guess." Tony sighed and rolling out of Steve's lap before getting to his feet and assembling the armour. "Go get dressed."

Steve charge up the stairs and pulled his uniform on, joining the Avengers as they dispersed into the air to their location. Which was, of course, down town. In the middle of rush hour. Steve actually swore and then Natasha was on the comms to Fury to get traffic rerouted. Steve actually swore again when he saw that it was Loki they were fighting. With some strange tentacled llama.

"Okay, seriously? Does he have one of those things with different animal parts, you spin it and out pops something strange?" Tony said over the line.

Clint snorted. "Careful, Stark."

And then they were fighting.

Half-way through, Steve lost sight of Tony, his heart leaping in his chest. "Iron Man? Tony? Where are you?"

"Uh... Down a side street."

He sounded strained. "Tony, do you need back up?"

"Nah, No, I'm fine."

"Tony...?"  
>"Steve!" he growled.<p>

"I'm coming to you. Which street?"

"I don't know; I'm all turned around. I don't need anything. I'm fine. I just—"

"Tony?" Silence. "Tony? Can you hear me?"

"Fuck, what now?" Clint said.

"I can't see him," Natasha said.

Steve could see her. She was busy taking down an octopus arm. Clint was helping her out, and Thor was nowhere to be seen as well. Crap. This was bad. Steve took off at a run, shouting Tony's name, his heart stopping when Tony's voice came, staticky, over the comms.

"Steve. Love you."

"Tony? Tony _noooo_! Where _are _you?" Heart pounding in his throat, Steve bellowed Tony's name, spinning in circles, not seeing the red and gold. "Tony? Tony, can you hear me? Where are you! What's wrong? _SHIT_!"

"Cap, I see your location," Clint's voice said quietly. "Two streets over. I can see red and gold."

Steve swore and sprinted.

* * *

><p>Tony groaned and scrunched up his face as light registered through his eyelids. And lover-soft words floated to his ears.<p>

"Tony? Tony!"

"Ste—" He coughed and then tried again. "Steve?"

"Oh thank God..."

He sounded relieved. Really relieved. "What happened?" he croaked, searching out the face to the voice. Hospital. Steve at his bedside. July 19th? "Wha—"

"Tony! Tony! Relax! Just lie still."

"Steve. What the fuck happened? It's July 19th!" Unless there was something wrong with Extremis.

Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is July 19th."

"I missed your birthday."

Steve blinked at him and Tony registered his hand in Steve's. "Oh geeze. You're... You're impossible."

"Steve. Why is it July 19th."

"You...weren't you for a while—no! No, Tony, it was fine. It wasn't bad! Geeze, calm down."

"Steve, just spit it out! You're freaking me out!"

"Loki de-aged you and you were a teenager and were stuck like that for over a month!"

"Uh..." Tony sank back into the bed, catching himself up on the latest news. "And uh... when did I change back?"

"Two days ago." Steve smiled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because, uh.. you look a little dazed."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Cap."

Steve's smile dimmed a little, but he straightened in his chair. "Great. That's good. I'm—we're glad. The team will be glad to see you alright."

"Sure thing." He looked at Steve who now wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I should... you should rest."

"Steve." Oh shit. Teenaged him.

The man looked at him, blues wide.

"Was teenage me...weird?"

"What?" Steve blinked. "No. Why would you say that?"

From what he remembered of his teenaged years, Tony gave him a rueful grin. "I know I was just... well. I was a bit rowdy when I was a teenager."

"No," Steve said warmly. "You were fine."

"Oh? Really? Really Steve?"

"Well, you certainly weren't much different." He paused and then flushed. "You liked me."

"Huh?" Now he was confused. "You think I don't like you? Steve. _Steve_! If I've been making the wrong impression, let me correct you here and now! Of course I li—"

"No!"

Tony's mouth snapped shut.

"No, I mean..."

He almost laughed at Steve's tomato-red face, except this was clearly something difficult to get out, and Steve had something to say.

"I mean..."

"Spit it out, Steve. I won't... Just say it."

"You _liked _me, Tony."

He felt the blood rush from his head, leaving him dizzy. "Oh God..."

"Tony?"

A warm hand gripped his.

"Tony. Tony!" Steve said sharper.

"Still here..." he replied faintly, vision blurred. "Steve, you've got to believe me. I was a teenager! It was just hero worship! I didn't mean what I said—I was just a kid! I wan—oh God. Now what?" Tony tried to shove the panic down as he took in Steve's wrecked visage. "Wait. Wait, Steve. Did you..."

"I like you, Tony," Steve said in a small voice.

Small pause. "You _like_ me?"

Steve rolled his eyes, face not any less red. "Yes, I _like_ you."

"Right then!" The corners of his mouth started to pull up. "Forget what I just said then. I'm sure I meant it all."

"You don't remember being a teenager. Recently. You don't remember being a teenager recently?"

"Nope."

"Oh." Steve was blushing furiously again.

"Why?"

"Nothing. You like me then?"

"Yes, I _like_ you."

Steve chuckled and squeezed Tony's hand.

"Oh God. Did I flirt with you shamelessly?"

"Yes."

Tony moaned and covered his face with his free hand.

"It was fine! Tony, don't worry about it."

He groaned again. "Get me out of here. I don't need to be in this hospital. I promise you, I'm fine. Extremis says so. Now take me home?"

Shaking his head, Steve sighed. "You're already cleared. But I reserve the final judgement of whether or not you can go home."

"And that's dependent on what?" Tony scowled at him.

Steve just smiled and stood, bending over Tony to kiss him.

His brain restarted when Steve pulled back.

"Tony..."

"Oh God. How... Who taught you how to kiss..." he blurted, limp on the bed.

Steve's face went through a series of amusing quick-changes—frown, smile, confused, before he said quietly, "You did."

Tony stared at him. "You're kidding me."

"No...?"

"I taught you how to kiss."

"Yeah."

"Did you know how to kiss before?"

"Theoretically."

"Steve."

"Tony...?"

"Damn, I was good for a teenager..." Tony looked at his hands. "So...can we get out of here?"

Steve gave him a lopsided smile. "Sure. Sure, let's go home."

After a lot of hullabaloo and emotional nonsense—the team being glad he was back, Pepper giving him a kiss on the cheek, a pat on the back from Rhodey, and JARVIS' voice welcoming him home—Tony collapsed on his bed, Steve standing awkwardly by the door.

"Need something, Steve?" He lifted his head to look at him.

"Can I...uh." He flushed and then shook his head. "Never mind."

Tony frowned and raised the lights to 40%. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You know when you tell me it's 'nothing,' I'm going to keep digging. What. You wanna come to bed?" He grinned. Felt the world shift when Steve reddened more and avoided his gaze. "Oh God. You want to come to bed. Steve. Steve, that's a little forward, don't you think."

Steve mumbled something and then turned towards the door.

"Wait!" Tony scrambled to the side of his bed, not quite sure what was going on. Or why he wanted Steve to wait, but he...he wanted him to wait?

"Tony, we don't have too—I... this is embarrassing. I'm going to just...I'll go."

"No, wait. Steve... You want to come to bed with me?"

"I'm not a virgin..." Steve mumbled.

"Right, of course." He grinned again, standing. What other reaction was there? "Who had that honour?"

Steve rolled his eyes to the ceiling, looking pained. "You did."

"I'm sorry. I what?"

"You did."

"How—oh God. _Teenaged_ me?" Tony dropped back onto the bed. "Oh God." Steve was at his side instantly, hands steadying on his shoulders.

"You okay?"

"Steve. We had sex and I don't remember it?"

Steve sat next to him on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He opened his mouth. Shut it. Looked at Tony, face pink-tinged and bashful, but he tilted his head and looked at him through his lashes. "Want me to show you what you taught me."

"Oh God."

"Is that a yes?"

Tony pounced. Steve made a sort of choked noise that went unheeded as Tony kissed him furiously, hands gripping his wrists tight at his side. He swallowed Steve's groan, his dick paying interested attention at the noise.

Steve pushed him off, however, rolled them over, trapping Tony beneath his weight. "You want this?"

"_Steve_, I've only wanted this, obviously, since I was a teenager. And to be frankly very honest, I am very _jealous_ right now of my teenaged self, and this needs to be _fixed. Damn it_." Tony pushed at him, grunting. "Damn it. And this isn't _fair_. Because you're bigger than me, and all I wan—Steve! You're not making this easy for me!"

Steve laughed, cupping his face and kissing him sweetly. "Fine. Fine, but tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! What the fuck for!"

"Because you need rest still."

Tony groaned, wriggling and bucking in hopes of getting his way. "_Steve_..." And was rewarded with Steve sucking in air through his teeth.

"Tony." Steve dropped his full weight on top of him. "Stop it. We can... we'll have plenty of time tomorrow. Okay?"

"But _Steve_... I'm horny _now_."

Steve laughed. "And you will be again tomorrow, I'm sure."

"Steve," Tony said, stilling and lowering his voice. Smiling softly and dipping his eyelids, he crooned next to Steve's ear, "Would you be so kind as to get me off?"

Shuddering on top of him, Steve rolled away. "Tony..." By the time he looked back at him, Tony already had a hand down his own pants. "_Jesus_."

"Didn't you say something about potty-mouths, Captain Rogers? Is this a hypocrisy?"

Steve swore again and grabbed Tony's wrists, pinning them on Tony's chest and jerking his pants down his hips.

"Hey hey! Careful with the merchandise!" he protested weakly. And then caught his breath as Steve gave him a wicked grin before closing his lips around his dick. "Oh my sweet mother of—"

"Don't you finish that sentence," Steve said, pulling off.

Tony groaned. "Did I teach you that too? How to suck dick and be a tease?"

"Well enough," Steve said playfully and went back to Tony's cock like a pro until he came and then the two of them bundled under the sheets for sleep.

Tony scooted closer to Steve's side, pushing his back against him. He sent the lights back down to nothing, and maybe, just maybe, he smiled a little to himself at the turn of events and hated Loki a little less. Until the next time. But with the promise of sex tomorrow and possibly repeat performances after that? He was willing to maybe give the trickster god a waive.

"Love you," Steve murmured, curling his arms around Tony's waist and kissing the back of his neck.

"Uh..." Steve stiffened against Tony, obviously more awake than he had been thirty seconds before.

Tony turned in his arms. "You love me?"

"I just..." Steve was avoiding his eyes again.

"Hey, hey, don't panic. I just... Say it again?"

"I love you...?"

"You were really involved with young me, huh?"

"Uh, yeah. Oh Tony, don't be jealous of yourself..."

"I am _definitely_ not jealous of myself. Well. Maybe not. That would just be weird, right? Jealous of yourse—okay! _Fine_! I'm totally jealous of myself!"

"Tony..." Steve said gently. "You're still you. And I like you."

"Love me," Tony corrected on the inhale.

"Love you," Steve agreed, tracing Tony's cheek. "And just because you're twenty years older doesn't mean that I'm going to love you less."

"But aren't I different?"

"Of course you're different. Everyone's different as they age. You're smarter, more experienced, more clever—"

"Older."

"Yes. So?"

"I..." He wasn't going to say it. Tony Stark was not vain. Not that he'd admit anyway.

"I'll still love you in the morning. And probably tomorrow."

"But I have to re-fall in love with you..."

Steve blinked at him, leaning up on an elbow. "Do you love me?"

Tony opened his mouth and then bit his lip. "If I say yes is it too soon?"

Laughing softly, Steve bent his head and kissed him. "No. You told me you'd always had a crush on me. I was your hero."

Tony groaned. "Oh _God_! Steve, I was a stupid teenager! Really! I didn't have two brain cells to rub together!"

"Hey now. I liked teenage you. You were...more unguarded. Don't be ashamed of it. I thought it was sweet."

"Great. Tony Stark: Sweet. Not a descriptor I thought I'd acquire." He dragged his hands down his face.

"I still want to have sex with you in the morning."

He brightened. "Really?"

"Only if you'll still respect me."

Teasing. Steve Rogers was teasing. Teasing him. "Oh, you enjoyed the hell out of me as a teenager. All of those pop culture references that I taunted you with...

Steve grinned wider. "Of course."

Snorting, Tony poked an elbow into his ribs and then resettled himself, curled around Steve this time. "Fine then. Now sleep so we can get to the sex faster."

Steve laughed but kissed Tony again before allowing Tony's arms to worm around his middle. "Goodnight, Tony. I love you."

"G'night, Steve. Love you too," he said quietly, heart filling with warmth and pleasure. "Love you too."


End file.
